Repetition and Variation
by HoldoutTrout
Summary: The years pass. Regina doesn't become the Evil Queen. Snow is betrothed to James but in love with his bastard brother, David. Regina sees history repeating itself and tries to intervene.


Snow is sixteen and beautiful and Regina hates her for neither of these things. She can't even manage to hate her for her childhood betrayal, not now that Mother has been gone and Rumplestiltskin is gone, his absence somewhat less mysterious than his initial appearance, considering his pointed barbs failed to entice her to any but the simplest of magics.

Her life is a trudge of duty after duty, a lonely walk between her rooms and the banquet hall and her garden. Snow is, ironically, a comfort to her, with her chatter about books she's reading or lessons she's learned about her kingdom from her tutors. Otherwise, Regina is alone, and left alone, though she knows the king thinks her dangerous and watches her.

She scoffs at this. She is not going to kill him, though the thought had crossed her mind once or twice, mostly when he visited her chambers at night… but it seems he has given up on a son to succeed him, and his visits have stopped.

It is the best gift he has given her during their marriage.

Tonight, she looks at the excesses of Snow's sixteenth birthday party and manages to find some pleasure in the lights and music, though she knows they can ill-afford the expense of so many musicians, so much food. Snow's gown is opulent, too, but she is radiant and even Regina cannot manage to begrudge her this night.

It is late when Leopold gathers the assembly together for a speech. He begins with praise for Queen Eva, and then for Snow herself. Regina listens with polite indifference, having heard a variation of this speech on every birthday since she married the king. It's only when the king pauses instead of raising a glass for a toast that she pays attention again.

Leopold is looking into the face of his daughter, who looks back like he is the sun.

"My daughter has grown into a beautiful woman. I am proud of her grace, her gentle spirit, her beauty and her kindness. Although no father wishes to let their little girl grow up, every girl must, and part of growing up is moving from a father's house to that of a husband."

Regina goes cold. Snow's smile has faltered.

Leopold appears not to notice. "It is with a bittersweet heart that I announce the betrothal of my darling Snow to Prince James, of King George's kingdom. Prince James will arrive within the week to spend time getting to know my princess and they will be wed in two years' time." He raises his glass. "May their united kingdom grow with their happiness!"

He drinks, and the court bursts into applause.

Regina watches Snow, whose face is white-but she knows she is being watched and merely sinks into a graceful curtsey. She receives a smile from her father and a kiss on her cheek and smiles back, but her eyes are empty.

Now, Regina thinks. Now, she could kill this man.

Prince James does not arrive alone, of course. He has an entire retinue of servants and a bastard half brother who could be his twin. The gossip is that they were even born the same day; James to the late queen and David to a poor farmer's wife.

Princess Snow is perfectly charming. She is refined and animated, able to converse easily with almost anyone, and James is no exception, even if James is much less interested in her than he is in the hunting around the palace. He talks about battle and heroics and his triumphs. He spends most of his time with the young men of the court. David is on the fringes of his brother's group, and he can't stop looking at Snow.

Regina sees the danger, but even she cannot be everywhere at once. The first sign that things have progressed out of her control comes when she sees David-not James-daring to brush a finger along Snow's hand as they pass. Snow flushes deeply, averting her eyes but looking back almost immediately.

It's the kind of heart-sick love that Regina knows intimately, and she seethes with unexpected rage, rage she thought long-buried and quiet.

She spends hours that night in front of her mirror. It says nothing back, merely shows her her own wild eyes and clenched fingers, but a glimpse of herself at full fury is enough to douse the inferno, enough for her to take a deep breath and smooth away the ghost of Cora from her eyes and lips, enough to feel the pity such a doomed love deserves.

Snow cannot have David, must marry James. Together they could ally against King Midas and keep their kingdoms, barely. Snow knows it, and she vacillates between wild happiness and wild despair during the long summer, David reflecting her moods.

When miserable, Snow spends time in Regina's rooms, moping over folded pieces of paper hidden badly in books. The closest they get to talking about any of it is an oblique conversation about how there's plenty of time before they have to worry about a trousseau-a remark meant to soothe Snow that has the opposite effect.

Still, Snow does her duty. One of the activities she and James have in common is their love for hunting on horseback. Snow shines on horseback, a skill that is testament to Regina's own love for riding and the many hours they've spent together since Regina's marriage. Snow and James organize a hunt with a false trail laid for the hounds-not through any misplaced compassion for foxes, but because that way a good hunt is guaranteed.

The hunt takes place on a beautiful, crisp autumn day, a festive atmosphere filling the courtyard as the riders gather and then set out. If Snow spends more time laughing with David than James, no one seems to notice except Regina. The riders race each other and the hounds, and no one suspects the danger until they run into it headlong.

It's a boar that has obviously run into magic, its form grotesquely enlarged and twisted, its eyes mad. Regina is part of the small party in front, with Snow, James, David, and a handful of the best riders-everyone else unable to keep up the quick pace and following behind. James rides into danger first, his horse stumbling and then gored, James thrown from the saddle and into the trunk of a nearby tree. Even dazed and confused he reaches for his sword-Regina can't fault his courage-but he will be too slow.

Regina goes so far as to reach for her magic but it's David that charges forward, a spear in his hand. He dismounts gracefully between the boar and James, holds his ground as the boar charges, runs into the spear, and keeps coming. The spear isn't enough, and David screams, crumpling-and then James is there with his sword, putting an end to the beast.

Snow runs to David. His leg is mangled but he is alive, managing to try to comfort Snow as her tears run freely. Regina feels a prickle of unease as she watches first the two of them and then James, who clearly sees what he hadn't before. She recognizes his look and is afraid.

James, it seems, is not a man who will let his bastard brother take what belongs to him.

Regina attempts to ameliorate the situation by praising James loudly for his quick and courageous action, but Snow blurts out her own praise of David, unable to see what a dangerous game she's playing. Still, all the accolades go to James, the prince, and Regina thinks that things might yet be smoothed over until James takes Leopold aside at the feast and Leopold comes back with narrowed eyes as he watches his daughter.

David is gone the next day, sent back home to rest, or so the reason is given. Snow is despondent for a day, then reappears, bright and smiling at court, attentive to James and her father, as if nothing ever happened.

Regina watches it all, distrustful of Snow's mood, although it seems to persuade James. She is hardly surprised, however, when Leopold throws another feast and invites his daughter to join him. Snow approaches him and sinks into a graceful curtsy, rising only when he nods.

"My daughter, I am glad you could join us here today. I have exciting news." He holds out a hand and Snow hesitates for a fraction of a second before placing her own hand in his. "After seeing the strength, courage, and spirit of Prince James, as well as the love you both share for each other and your kingdoms, we have agreed that there is no need to wait two years for you to wed. It is my joy that you shall marry before the end of this year."

Snow's face goes still, but she recovers after only a moment, curtseying again and moving to join James, who is satisfied, standing tall and proud.

Regina slips away, spends the rest of the hour cursing men and kingdoms and the very idea of love. She knew Leopold had little empathy for her, but she had always thought he thought better of his daughter. She knows how precarious his kingdom is, knows that they need this alliance or they will be overrun and subsumed into Midas' empire. And James might be arrogant, but he is young, and Snow has always known that royal marriages usually carried more practical concerns and less romantic love than her own parents' marriage had.

Regina feels suffocated, unable to decide if she's just seeing parallels where none exist or if this is history repeating itself in the worst ways.

Until the giants.

James goes on a quest, called away from court for a fortnight and returning with carts laden with gold and jewels… and the severed head of a giant.

"There are a half-dozen more, but this one was hard enough to bring back," James boasts. The men laugh, while Snow and Regina stare at the scene with dismay.

"You killed them all?" Snow asks in horrified disbelief.

"They're i _giants/i_ ," James scoffs. "They didn't deserve to live." He shakes his head. "And they burned all the beans, too, or we could have had riches beyond even Midas' wildest dreams."

It was a reckless act, stunningly short-sighted and selfish. Regina knows Snow sees it, too, and even Leopold looks discomfited by the sight of that giant's head, battered and bloody. It's what a boy playing at being king would do, and it shows how foolish James could be.

And yet-the alliance has been made, and to openly criticize James would invite chaos and alienate their strongest ally. They cannot afford to do that, not with Midas consolidating power.

"It is well done," Regina says, loudly enough to cause the court to stir. They are all accustomed to her silence, and Regina hopes their surprise will cover the discomfort that preceded it. "A heroic act by a brave prince."

She knows Snow understands why she spoke at all when the girl places her hand on James' arm and smiles, her pain hidden from those who don't know her well but not from Regina.

That evening, Snow slips away from the party and into the garden, and Regina follows, far enough to remain unnoticed but close enough not to lose Snow in the winding paths. Here, Snow is a creature of moonlight, her white skin and white dress making her impossible to miss. She reaches the center of the garden and pauses. Regina folds herself into the foliage along the path, still far from the clearing and waits, unsure if Snow is trying to think of a way out or talking herself into a cruelty and hardness for what lies ahead.

She almost goes to her, but doesn't know what to say, and then there's a crack of a branch under someone's foot. Snow doesn't hear it-she's still facing away, looking out from the palace as if yearning to leave.

Almost as quietly as Regina herself, Prince James walks by. He sees Snow; he's stalking Snow, he can't possibly mean anything good by coming out here alone, when he knows Snow is alone. Regina thinks about giants, about Snow's face when Leopold announced her engagement, about Leopold and weddings and Daniel, dead in her arms. Regina's blood rushes in her ears. He reaches the clearing and grabs Snow's arm, and Regina's vision goes red.

Snow jumps and turns and Regina is moving, calling to magic that she hasn't used for years, feeling it rush under her skin, feeling i _alive_ /i. She thrusts out an arm and James flies through the air.

Snow screams, just before James hits a tree with a loud crack. Regina knows he's dead before he hits the ground and cumples. Regina regrets Snow seeing this, but she still feels that same rush, is thinking that it's convenient James has a half-brother who looks so much like him. They can still save the alliance, can save all of them-

She finally registers that Snow is still screaming, that she's rushed to James' side and cradled his head in her hands.

"No," Snow says. "No, no no-" She sobs into his hair, rocks back and forth, and Regina feels a cold hand squeeze around her heart.

"I had to," she says, beginning to feel numb instead of victorious. "I had to protect you-"

"You killed him!" Snow says, turning tearful eyes on her-accusing eyes. "How could you? I i _loved_ /i him."

"You loved James?" Regina asks in disbelief, but as soon as the words leave her mouth she knows.

"David," Snow says, and her tears have stopped, which is even more frightening. "David. You used, you used… magic. You killed him."

"No," Regina whispers. "I didn't-it was James-"

"David!" Snow screams it, gasps, sobs. "David. We planned-he came tonight, we were going to run away-"

"I didn't know," Regina says, so numb her speech sounds slurred. "I thought-"

In the distance, she hears shouts, footsteps that can only mean the guards have finally heard the commotion and are coming to investigate.

Snow rises from the ground, eyes cold and hard-Regina has never seen anything half as frightening. "I'm going to kill you," she says.

Regina takes a step back, knows Snow means it, like she meant it when she herself first swore revenge. Echoes of the past flash before her eyes again, and Regina thinks she hears an imp's laugh.

Snow steps forward. She raises her arm, points at Regina. "Help!" she shouts. "Guards! The queen has murdered the prince!"

Regina panics, turning and running from the palace, running until she can no longer hear Snow's screams, until she collapses, spent, in a hollow log. She shivers her way through the rest of the night, hearing guards in the distance, hoping none of them come close enough to find her.

She dreams, that night and every night after, about standing over David's lifeless body, only she holds his heart in her hand, only it's not David but Daniel.

She has no friends, no family, nowhere to run-so she doesn't run. She steals new clothes, practical items that remind her of her youth. She cuts her hair and braids it back, simply. Her magic remains stubbornly unhelpful, only coming when it's least expected and least desired. She dares to go into a small town nearby, but only long enough to procure basic provisions and see her face a dozen times on wanted posters that dot the walls of the streets.

No one recognizes her.

Months pass. Eventually, Regina pieces together the story Snow told about that night: Regina was plotting with the brother to overthrow both their kingdoms-but she must have betrayed David and killed him to take over and put herself on the throne. It's absurd-Regina never had the love of the people, or strategic allies, and such a plot would fail before it started. Nevertheless, Snow is so beloved that everyone believes it.

Regina is outcast. The pictures of her on the posters are so cold and formal, and she is so tired and dirty, that no one connects them with her easily, but she has a couple of close calls with guards from the palace-still hunting her after weeks. She can't trust to luck forever, and she trades what little money she's managed to steal so far for a vial of magic, a last resort in case she can't escape. She thinks she might be able to steal enough to buy passage on a ship next spring.

But spring comes and the king dies. Snow is crowned but there are other rumors now, of a queen gone mad with grief, of dark magic at the palace, from frightened servants who are suddenly looking for work outside the palace walls, even as the wedding date approaches. There will be a wedding, despite everything.

Regina, in a rash and stupid moment, applies to work as a kitchen maid, finds herself scrubbed and handed an apron and a tub of soapy water. She works hard, well into the night, but instead of crawling into bed and collapsing, she sneaks through passageways and corridors until she sees the light from Snow's door.

She thinks, wildly, that if she can just explain, apologize, maybe they can make this right, or at least Regina can leave knowing Snow has, if not forgiven her, allowed her rage to cool, taken down the posters, let her fade into obscurity.

She's poised to knock, to enter, but she hears a voice from inside, a cold "Again!" that roots her feet to the floor. She peers through a crack in the old wood and sees Snow with her arm outstretched toward James, who is slumped against the wall, bound hand and foot and unconscious.

"I can't," she says, dropping her arm. Regina would like to believe it's kindness in her voice, but she knows this too well, has been where Snow is standing. It's not a surprise when the imp appears behind Snow, when he puts his hands on her shoulders, his mouth by her ear. Regina can't hear him, but she knows what he's saying, the promises he's whispering. Snow's shoulders straighten and she takes a step forward, raises her arm, and plunges it into James' chest.

Regina makes no sound-she never unlearned the need for absolute control. The imp turns his head her way, as if he saw her coming. He grins, and then his face is hidden by Snow, straightening up with James' heart in her hand. She's breathing hard, her eyes unfocused.

"Good, good!" the imp cries.

"Now what?" Snow asks.

Rumplestiltskin shrugs. "Crush it, cut it, boil it in a stew!" He leans forward. "You have the power now, dearie-what comes next is entirely up to you."

Snow squeezes the heart and James jerks in pain, groans. "Quiet," she says, and James is silent even as his body twitches. Snow tightens her grip, and Regina cannot watch the last shred of Snow's innocence be torn away like this. She fingers the vial of magic

Snow's fingers relax slightly, and James slumps. Regina relaxes. There's still hope, then-

Snow holds up the heart, examining it from every angle. "We have to have the alliance," she says. "But I think I'll keep this."

Regina cannot let this happen. She bursts into the room, not sure what she'll say but prepared to say anything to just make Snow reconsider this path.

She's silenced and thrown against the wall, right next to James, before she utters one syllable. Rumplestiltskin's magic holds her fast. He laughs, high and cold, and bows to Snow.

"You might keep this, too, Your Highness. Or dispose of it," he adds, as if it's an afterthought. "She's of no use to anyone, after all-neither queens nor imps!"

Regina struggles, but is held fast.

Snow, who had startled at Regina's sudden appearance, settles into a tightly wound anticipation that resembles her excitement at her twelfth birthday party, when she was given her own horse-a dark gelding that complemented her own looks perfectly.

"A present?" she says. "But I thought everything with you had its price."

Rumplestiltskin giggles. "Too true!" He flourishes and bows, and when he straightens up he's holding a box, ornately carved with symbols that writhe on its surface. "But you won't have to pay it," he adds. "She'll pay for you."

"What do you mean?" Snow says sharply. "Speak plainly."

"Her magic," Rumplestiltskin says, petting the box. "It's dangerous to you, and so useful to me!" He leans forward into Snow's personal space. "Once I have her magic… you can do whatever you like with the rest."

Snow's eyes flash. "She deserves death."

Rumplestiltskin waves a hand. "Yes, yes, of course. She'll be much easier to kill this way…"

Snow hesitates. It's the first time Regina has seen the girl she remembers, but it doesn't last. Snow turns away and nods, and Rumplestiltskin opens the box.

Her magic-the magic she'd grown used to feeling, even though she didn't use it for many years-tears away from her. It's slow, and it's unbearable. She screams and keeps screaming until it's gone and Rumplestiltskin shuts his little box. Regina drops to the floor, crumples onto the stone.

He giggles. "All yours, Your Majesty." He bows theatrically. "I believe you have everything you need."

Regina struggles to get up and barely manages to raise her eyes. "No-" she says, but Rumplestiltskin has gone and Snow is looking down at her in satisfaction.

"I used to look up to you," Snow says. Her voice is cold and cruel, where she has been neither of those things. "Father told me to be wary of you, but I never believed him-I never listened to him, because I thought you were igood/i." She sneers at Regina. "I was a fool."

Regina shakes her head. "No, no-"

"Silence!" The command rings through the room.

But Regina spent too long being quiet, being nothing more than present, to stop speaking now. "I'm so sorry, Snow," she says. "I never meant-I never meant to hurt David. It was an accident-"

"No! You're lying." Snow's eyes are wide and wild. Regina recognizes the look from her mirror, knows the tortured thoughts that distort the truth that come next. "You praised James at every step, you told Father about David-"

"Never! Snow, I wouldn't. You have to know-you're the only one who could know-"

Snow laughs hysterically, waves a hand, and Regina is bound with her hands behind her, a gag stuffed in her mouth. "Guards!"

Regina tries not to feel offended as several guards she had handpicked for her own retinue hurry into the room. Two come forward and grasp her arms, hauling her upright. None of them look at James, still propped against the wall.

"This traitor will be executed tomorrow." She steps in front of Regina and grabs her face. "I know-what you were saying earlier. I know what I did. I know how that feels, to lose someone you love." She pushes against her face and whirls away, breathing hard. "That's how I know you planned it. A sweet revenge, served cold. Mine will be warm."

"Take her away."


End file.
